Long Cid Poems
Long Cid Poems. Below are the most popular long Cid by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cid poems by poem length and keyword.
what happens in sleep,
stays in sleep, no?
you hope.
you do your best to
forget the places that
you’ve been & the
people with whom you
have done despicable
things.
you tiptoe through the
tulips, boundless & naked
sniffing, snorting, injecting,
taking in, breathing out,
licking, stroking, fighting,
resisting, surrendering,
lifting & stretching, opening,
holding, squeezing,
massaging, drifting,
imagining (within the realm
of the imagined), thinking,
tripping, delving, diving,
swimming, sucking, lapping
up everything, orgasming,
kissing, beating, oiling,
vibrating, shaking, quaking,
sticking, enveloping,
pulsating, pricking, smoking,
giggling, screaming, moaning,
cursing, cutting, abusing, losing,
bathing in the juices,
sweating with the animals,
eating with the carnivores,
bleeding with the tortured,
engaged like a prisoner,
questioned like one
ever
so
guilty,
out-killing every murderer that
you have ever dreamed to
utter the name of,
forcing them to pray to you,
forcing them to worship you,
forcing them to pleasure you,
forcing them to feed you their
own flesh,
forcing & thrusting & easing &
climaxing,
gushing & trusting---singling out
brand new
safe words---
&
you got
10 winks left
&
your eyelids start to shutter,
flick &
flutter---
you ride ride ride
with pride pride pride
your blood now 75% foreign substances in
binging &
cringing &
toking &
placing the
cid on the headband---
tying it tightly round your head,
on your knees with a guitar
that you can’t play when
awake.
you trip like you will never stop
falling & echo out the decent
with the loud fresh tunes of your
very own national anthem
being belted out by the steel strings
now being plucked & struck with
those precious digits that in the
past 30 winks, have done such
dirty, dirty things.
you’re running
and your muscles
spasm with bursting
eruptions---you shoot
& squirt your fluids
everywhere, all over
yourself---& they run down
your inner thighs and leave
you in a pool of stank &
cold sweat.
then the lightening strike of
pleasure & pain begins to
ebb.
someone is pulling the blinds
as the light comes blaring in
taking all your secret domain
away & you are a prisoner of
the real time war on freedom
that you call a life---again.
He didn’t have a native land,
therefore, he had no reminiscences of any sort,
neither good nor ill, other than reckless killing
at the battlefield where he was compulsorily taken into
and deployed to fight unwanted fight: the legend of warmhearted provisions provided in the name of el Cid Rodrigo Diaz De Vival
to the foes is only the beautified story of Castile.
The Faithfulness that even risks own life for fidelity is
though lonely one’s heart’s desire, he knew not the friendship
for he lived the life without a friend other than ghastly cry of tottering, collapsed, crawling and mutilated bodies of neither to call the enemies’ nor friends’: the beautiful friendship that of Pythias and Daimon is
the drifting clouds above the Sicily, it is the fancy of dearest wish,
the concocted tales that to honor the tyrant of Syracuse.
He didn’t have a home; therefore, he doesn’t know what is the love,
other than the deep wound of maternal love he saw at the battlefield;
the grief that of an old woman who was holding her slain son in her arms
with absent-minded, who was washing the blood off
from the slaughtered son’s face with tears: it is the horrifying myth
of Persephone who can only able to have a stillborn child.
It is the dark shadow of the daughter of Demeter who goes back and forth
along the other side of Styx counting days till spring is to come.
He didn’t have wife, therefore, he lived his life without knowing
what is the intimate love, other than touch of a foreign woman
who sales long kept chastity for a loaf of bread in the gathering darkness;
who weeps alone in the ruin at the roadside where
the cannonade booms to deafen the air: it is the shadow of the curse
on Oedipus who though able to solve the riddle of Sphinx
able not to flee from the irony of life. It is the damnation on the king of Thebes, who roams in the darkness led by two tender aged daughters.
Chicken Little ( by Myself and Shukura Porter)
A crackhead stands out on the corner holding a torn Bible...claiming he has found religion...still very much in the midst of his own addiction ...a "wino" sleeps in the streets only to wake up and remind others that he once was a he great "war hero" (that's an oxymoron by the way)....A wayward woman kills and buries her own seed insisting that this was a part of some path to ultimate "righteousness"...*DECEPTION OF SELF* ...lies lies what a web of lies....the mistreatment of dear life ...such a painful sight to witness... and though I'm not sure where it all actually began the end is quite clear...that if we're not careful it could for us be also near....while these words may seem cynical I write not only to incite fear...but a sense of urgency...THE SKY IS FALLING...a once primitive civilization of people now decayed from decades of decadence....it's evident in what we have now become to be...THE SKY IS FALLING....and if you even began to look you would understand...consequently so are we... -"CiD"
All of this has grown even worse in a rapid motion. Waves of self defeat engulfed the souls that walk the land of the free. Betrayal has become a friend of many and she brings Misery and Death with her to watch the THE SKY FALL.
There is a great war happening between the soul and the flesh. A war between the eyes and hands. The suffering eyes are being blinded, covered by the hands. The suffering eyes are paying for what the hands have touched. Now the windows of the soul have become clouded. Mutiny to life. The ears and tongue are allies in the horrific battle but are the enemy to the eyes. The hands lead the way, the mouth declares decrees and demands, the ears hear indirect instruction. Eyes are blind to the sight of the truth of self power to overcome. THE SKY IS FALLING - Shukura Porter
Form:
I had just left the Fairgrounds Race Track with my dad, where I won $13.00 on a nag whose name I forget and Dad won nothing, which mattered not since his goal was to 'celebrate' the night with his Candy Apple Red....newly bored out 1957 Chevrolet Corvette by timing it, while crossing Lake Pontchartrain's Causeway.
If you're not familiar, it's New Orleans longest bridge over water at 23.83 miles so off we went. At 11:00 PM the only thing in sight was a couple of lone Sea Gulls. Dad held up his stop watch, hit the gas pedal and zoom, we were gone. I remember when the Vette hit the hump where the bridge opens for boats to pass, it literally left the payment and took flight. Amazingly, when the four wheels returned to the cement, they were not felt and continued on smoothly to the end of the bridge, where we finally got off.....AMEN!
Daddy was in awe as he pulled over on a side street raising the stop watch to the street lamp in order to claim his glory. "Baby," he yelled, "Look at this" as he stuck that watch in my face. The watch reflected a 227 mile per hour trip in eleven minutes flat!
'Aw Baby you saw it! You lived it! Who cares if no one believes us! We did it!"
Dad owned New Orleans Ford Service Company but he was always a Chevy man at heart. He'd pull the 283-cid V-8 engine and to him it was the most revered engine in the entire world. The small block was what he was most proud to convey to any on lookers whether interested or not. He'd rave, "it's been bored out to 1/8 inch to 3.875 in stroke remained a short 3.00 in."
That was a long FAST memory ago. One I shall never forget! Did we really go that fast? Yes, according to his stop watch.....
Prized for perfumes and medicines,
Rainbow personified & God’s messenger,
Resting the souls of dead women,
Decorum of the graves,
Delight of the ancient artists.
Blooming on Minoan Walls,
Sculptured in stone at Karnak.
Living memories of the French revolution.
Clovis put you on his banner
And won over Germanic tribe.
Louis VII adopted you as device,
‘Fleur-de-lis’ the symbol of France.
Germany suspended you in beer barrels,
And France to enrich the wine,
England to give flavour to brandies,
And Russia flavoured a soft drink.
Then, plucked in a state of chastity,
Now, relegated to flavour toothpaste.
==========================
Dr. Ram Mehta
Third Place win in:
Contest: Best Blossom Design (Flower Poem) sponsored by the Destroyer Poet
=================================================
The poem was read by me at the World congress of Poets held in Iasi, Romania in 2002 and has been published in the following international magazines:
Copy and paste in your browser the following links:
http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewpoetry.asp?AuthorID=24119&id=121733
http://www.fieralingue.it/modules.php?name=Content&pa=list_pages_categories&cid=58
http://www.boloji.com/writers/rammehta.htm
http://www.inditecircle.com/pro/art.php?artid=31
http://www.kavitanjali.com/pgjuly07/iris.htm
http://www.alittlepoetry.com/vs06rammehta.html http://www.poetsexpress.com/Winter07/DrRamMehta.htm
http://www.poetry.com
http://www.poetrymagazine.com/archives/2001/April01/mehta.htm
The first time we tackled 'The Nipple' which is also known as La Mama
The leader said "Today’s walk's a toughie", We replied "No Problema"
It was really a pleasant excursion till we dropped from Cumbre del Cid
On a vertical scree our choice seemed to be, to slide or slither or skid
When we safely got down to the bottom, the leader exclaimed “Well done,
But there’s no time to shilly or shally, we didn’t come here to have fun"
The breeze was gathering momentum, it was perfect for flying a kite
But as no-one had thought to pack one, we carried on, gaining more height
We managed to stay at the top, for maybe three minutes at most
Till the leader says "Come on let's leg it, we're being blown from pillar to post"
The second time we tackled 'The Nipple' we set out on an easier track
But the wind having other ideas, did its best to again blow us back
Just yards from our due destination on the trickiest, steepest terrain
The wind gently picked up our leader before dropping him back down again
His hat sailed away on a thermal, it soared like a swallow at play
It fair broke his heart watching helpless, as his seventy pound hat flew away
Three intrepid souls kept on climbing, but one by one had to declare
They could have got right to the summit but the wind was spoiling their hair
So if you want to tackle La Mama, my advice is go elsewhere instead
But if you insist, keep your feet on the ground and staple your hat to your head
Prized for perfumes and medicines,
Rainbow personified & God’s messenger,
Resting the souls of dead women,
Decorum of the graves,
Delight of the ancient artists.
Blooming on Minoan Walls,
Sculptured in stone at Karnak.
Living memories of the French revolution.
Clovis put you on his banner
And won over Germanic tribe.
Louis VII adopted you as device,
‘Fleur-de-lis’ the symbol of France.
Germany suspended you in beer barrels,
And France to enrich the wine,
England to give flavour to brandies,
And Russia flavoured a soft drink.
Then, plucked in a state of chastity,
Now, relegated to flavour toothpaste.
==========================
Contest:
The poem was read by me at the World congress of Poets held in Iasi, Romania in 2002
and has been published in the following international magazines:
Copy and paste in your browser the following links:
http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewpoetry.asp?AuthorID=24119&id=121733
http://www.fieralingue.it/modules.php?
name=Content&pa=list_pages_categories&cid=58
http://www.boloji.com/writers/rammehta.htm
http://www.inditecircle.com/pro/art.php?artid=31
http://www.kavitanjali.com/pgjuly07/iris.htm
http://www.alittlepoetry.com/vs06rammehta.html
http://www.poetsexpress.com/Winter07/DrRamMehta.htm
http://www.poetry.com
http://www.poetrymagazine.com/archives/2001/April01/mehta.htm
Episodes
1)Nawaz-ud-deen Sidiqi Episode(157,158)
2)Amir Khan(891,892)
3)Bipasha basu(868,1126)
4)Esha gupta(868)
5)Sunny deol(1020,1324)
6)Sunny Leone(1055)
7)R madhavan Episode(556)
8)Tushar kapoor(979)
9)Jacky bhaghani(1057)
10) Akshay Kumar(823)
11) Sonakshi sinha(823,990)
12) Sidharth malhotra(1094)
13) Shraadha Kapoor(1094)
14) Ajay devgan(1162)
15) Karishma Shah(167,168)
16) Late Om puri(139)
17) Late Sushant Singh(1211)
18) Emraan hashmi(641,781,1216)
19) Prachi desai(641)
20) Bhaghyashree(193)
21) Yami gautam(642)
22) SRK(1315)
23) Salman Khan(583,1107,1108)
24) Govinda (1156)
25) Anu Malik(1057)
26) Varun dhawan(1190,1191)
27) Kareena kapoor(873)
28) Vinay pathak(979)
29) Tushar(979)
30) Vidhyut janwal(938)
31) John abraham(1343)
32) Saif Ali Khan(1156)
33) Imran Khan(990)
34) Amrita prakash(940)
35) Payal rohatgi(719,720)
36) Faisal(1153)
37) Jimmy Shergill(1046)
38) Ekta Kapoor(723)
39) Rahul dev(1330)
40) Mahesh Manjrekar(664)
41) Abbas-Mustan(1412)
42) Kiara advani(1412)
43) Milind gunaji(197)
44) Prem Chopra(64)
45) Depak shirke(901)
46) Kapil dev(cricketer)289)
47) Rajeev khandelwal(391)
48) Ravi behl(844)
49) Mushtaq Khan(177,178)
50) Vishaka Singh(979)
51) Mahek chahal(583)
52) Late Inder Kumar(583)
53) Sarfaraz Khan(583)
54) Sajid Ali(583)
55) Abhijeet Sawant(370)
Form:
Prized for perfumes and medicines,
Rainbow personified & God’s messenger,
Resting the souls of dead women,
Decorum of the graves,
Delight of the ancient artists.
Blooming on Minoan Walls,
Sculptured in stone at Karnak.
Living memories of the French revolution.
Clovis put you on his banner
And won over Germanic tribe.
Louis VII adopted you as device,
‘Fleur-de-lis’ the symbol of France.
Germany suspended you in beer barrels,
And France to enrich the wine,
England to give flavour to brandies,
And Russia flavoured a soft drink.
Then, plucked in a state of chastity,
Now, relegated to flavour toothpaste.
=============================
Eighth Placement
Contest: Flower Power
==================
The poem was read by me at the World congress of Poets held in Iasi, Romania in 2002 and has been published in the following international magazines:
http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewpoetry.asp?AuthorID=24119&id=121733
http://www.fieralingue.it/modules.php?name=Content&pa=list_pages_categories&cid=58
http://www.boloji.com/writers/rammehta.htm
http://www.inditecircle.com/pro/art.php?artid=31
http://www.kavitanjali.com/pgjuly07/iris.htm
http://www.alittlepoetry.com/vs06rammehta.html http://www.poetsexpress.com/Winter07/DrRamMehta.htm
http://www.poetry.com
http://www.poetrymagazine.com/archives/2001/April01/mehta.htm
As children we FEAR darkness…we’re not able to fully comprehend why but somehow we know the misery that it brings…there comes a point in time however when we become more and more comfortable with darkness…we FEEL we are able to “understand” it….from that point it then becomes a likely companion…steering us away from everything that is the LIGHT…we are all able to identify with PAIN and anguish in one way or another….of course there is no wrongdoing in this…it is when we immerse ourselves in pure unbalanced EVIL…that does a grave injustice to our own SELF…the BRAIN becomes clouded with thoughts of ANGER and misfortune…the SPIRIT begins to deteriorate from the toxins of iniquity…it is imperative that we treat the tri-fecta (MIND,BODY, SOUL) with much better care…let us not be bamboozled by the seductiveness of the shadows…YOU are a gift and the present is always a chance…take CONTROL of the chance…liberate yourself from your own demons…fall not at the knees of being tragically dispositioned…instead embrace inner BALANCE….+- +- +- +-
CiD *Conquering Inner Demons*
4:20
S.E.L.F (Spiritual Evolution Last Forever)
Form: